


A Constituency of One

by victoria_p (musesfool)



Category: Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: (except Palpatine), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Everybody Lives, Gen, Minor Padmé Amidala/Anakin Skywalker, Padmé Amidala Lives, West Wing Title Project, padmé amidala saves the galaxy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-15
Updated: 2019-07-15
Packaged: 2020-06-28 18:54:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19818439
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/musesfool/pseuds/victoria_p
Summary: Padmé is the one who figures it out.





	A Constituency of One

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the [**West Wing Title project**](https://musesfool.dreamwidth.org/386778.html). Recognizable dialogue comes from RotS (or the novelization thereof). Also, I've shortened the timeline even further. 
> 
> Thanks to Snacky and Silveronthetree for looking it over! Happy birthday to me!

Padmé is the one who figures it out. 

Every time she sees her husband, there's a little less of him left, less of the sweet, good-hearted boy she'd first met, or the passionate romantic she'd married, and more of the angry killer she'd caught a glimpse of in the desert. It's this war, and before that, the Jedi's insistence on walling up his loving heart with rules and strictures. She understands duty and honor and obedience, but she also understands that without love, without loyalty, without consent, they are nothing but exploitation. And she decides that Anakin has been exploited enough.

Once she goes looking, it's not hard to see the web they're all caught in. The Jedi are complicit, but unknowingly; they answer to the Senate, which makes her and her fellow senators just as culpable, and in some cases, far less unaware. 

Because the architect of all their misery is Palpatine, who cultivated their friendship and careers; Palptaine, who mentored and guided them both until he could use them—their love, their power—for his own gain.

Padmé knows she'll have to act carefully. Since Ahsoka left, Anakin's withdrawn from them all; he's sleep-deprived, paranoid, and deeply hurt. Telling him that his mentor and confidant over all these years has been using him will break him in ways that could have repercussions well beyond their relationship. Conspiring with Obi-Wan to do it will turn him against them both—Palpatine has worked hard to drive a wedge between them, and Obi-Wan's habitual reserve only makes it worse. No doubt Palpatine is counting on Anakin's jealousy to do the rest. 

And yet. She cannot defeat Palpatine alone.

She's seven months pregnant, but not without resources.

The Delegation of 2,000 is one possibility, but she no longer believes Palpatine will give up power willingly, let alone lawfully. Bail and Mon are allies, trusted friends, but Padmé is the one who put him in the Chancellor's office, and she'd like to be the one who removes him from it. Maybe she's taking it too personally, all these years later, but it feels personal. And while she's no Jedi, she's learned to trust her feelings.

Her handmaidens are strong, and they are brave, but they are not trained for assassination, and even Sabé might balk at being asked to do that. That she's asked them to gather financial records, delve deeper into the Trade Federation and the Banking Clan's files, read through years of intercepted Separatist transmissions looking for connections to Palpatine, is enough to get them all thrown in jail under Palpatine's ever-stricter wartime laws. It's extra work both for her and for her already overextended staff, and her pregnancy makes everything more difficult, and more exhausting, since she can't even use it as an excuse to get out of meetings or social engagements, because no one is supposed to know.

She could hire a bounty hunter, but between the clones, the senate guard, and the Jedi, she has no hope of success along that route.

Ahsoka is on Mandalore, and there's no other Jedi Padmé would trust with this. 

So really, she only has the one choice, but it's also the best choice. Her message to him is brief but urgent.

Obi-Wan arrives exactly on time for their meeting; he looks as careworn and harried as she feels as he settles onto the sofa across from her.

"I'm sorry," she says. "I know this is a bad time, but..." She trails off, because all times right now are bad times, as long as Palpatine remains in power. She wants to pinch the bridge of her nose to stave off the headache coming on, but she doesn't. It would have ruined her makeup when she was queen, and she's never gotten back into the habit.

"It's fine," Obi-Wan says, though his usual charm is lacking, and he is almost curt with her. "I have a mission—I'm meant to be shipping out right about now."

She can't help the little hitch in her breath, the brief wave of dizziness that could be fatigue but is probably fear. "I didn't realize you were leaving so soon. Anakin—"

"Anakin is remaining on Coruscant," he says in what she's sure is meant to be reassurance, but which instead makes her blood run cold. 

"At the Chancellor's request?" she asks.

"No, actually." Obi-Wan runs a hand through his hair. "The Chancellor suggested _him_ for this mission, but the Council—"

"The Council feels the need to assert their independence," she says, completing the thought. She can see it now, how carefully Palpatine has laid his plans and snares.

Obi-Wan puffs up like he's taking umbrage and then deflates. "Just so. The Jedi are more and more under his—"

"Thumb," she says bitterly.

"Purview, I was going to say." He leans forward and takes her hand. "I know you must be worried, but Anakin is safer here than on Utapau with me." His gaze drops to her belly and he squeezes her hand gently. "He might even still be here when the baby comes."

Where once she might have been shocked by Obi-Wan's breach of their silent agreement to never overtly refer to her relationship with Anakin, that concern is nothing compared to her current worries. "No," she says, "not if Palpatine has anything to say about it."

Obi-Wan draws in a shocked breath of his own. "What do you know?"

"Know?" She laughs incredulously, mirthlessly. "Nothing that can be proved. What I _believe_ is that Palpatine has been taking advantage of this war to grow his own power and that only direct action will remove him from office before he removes all constraint on what he is allowed to do. I believe he's been orchestrating your missions to keep you out of the way while his influence over Anakin grows." She takes a deep breath and gives Obi-Wan's hand a meaningful squeeze before meeting his gaze squarely. "I believe Palpatine is the Sith Lord you've been seeking, and he wants to make Anakin his new apprentice."

She expects—she doesn't know what she expects. Scoffing, perhaps, accusations that she's crazy, hormonal, letting her imagination run away with her. Obi-Wan slips his hand from hers and rises from the sofa, drawing himself up as though he's about to provide one or all of those things. 

And then he strokes his beard and says, "That makes a disturbing amount of sense." His comm buzzes and he dips his head in inquiry. She nods, and he answers the call. "Kenobi."

"You're supposed to be on your way to Utapau," Master Windu says.

"Something urgent has come up," Obi-Wan replies smoothly, as if she hasn't just dropped a bomb on him. "I recommend sending Master Fisto instead."

"Obi-Wan—"

"I'll explain when I return to the Temple, Mace. But please, trust me."

"Fine, but you'd better have a good reason for this."

"Don't I always?" Obi-Wan asks with infuriating insouciance, considering the circumstances. "Oh, and, don't tell the Council."

Obi-Wan cuts the comm in the middle of Master Windu's curse. "That should buy us some time to plan, at least."

Padmé nods. "Why don't you want the Council to know?"

He gives her a long, assessing look. It would make her uncomfortable if she hadn't been in the public eye since she was a child. He must find what he's searching for, because he says, "Palpatine requested that Anakin be given a seat on the Council."

"You think he's a spy." It comes out more accusatory than she'd like.

"Unwittingly, but yes," Obi-Wan answers promptly. "Anakin has always confided in him." He frowns. "I allowed it when he was younger because he had so few friends, and he was often uncomfortable confiding in me, while Palpatine seemed kind and was vaguely interested in what I thought was a—a grandfatherly way." He sighs. "It doesn't help that the even though the Council acquiesced to the request, they denied him the rank of master."

Padmé raises her eyebrows in surprise. "Because Ahsoka wasn't knighted?" 

"No." Obi-Wan's gaze drops to her belly again for the briefest moment. "Because he has not yet mastered himself." He shakes his head. "Even the desire for a Council seat is suspect—"

"He's always been ambitious," Padmé says, defensive. "That's not a bad thing."

"Yes," Obi-Wan agrees, and she has to admit that he knows Anakin as well as she does. "He has always wanted to be the best Jedi he can be, to do great things and win renown. The Council is...it's politics both petty and galactic. And certain exceptions aside," he gives her a wry look, "politics has never much held his interest." He shakes his head again. "We also asked him—they had _me_ ask him—to report back to us on the Chancellor. He will have much to complain about."

A pretty mess they've made of it, and she could expend the energy being angry at them—she will, when all this is done and she feels safe again—but for now, she takes a deep breath and forces herself to focus on the matter at hand.

"That's not all. He's been having nightmares again. About me, this time."

"You mean like the ones he had before Geonosis?"

"About his mother, yes." The baby kicks and Padmé rubs a soothing hand over her belly. She could do with a soothing back rub herself, but it looks like that's not going to happen any time soon. "I'm seeing a doctor regularly. I'm healthy. We're on Coruscant, Obi-Wan. The odds of something bad happening—"

"Don't tell me the odds, Padmé. Not if there is a Sith Lord involved."

"That's just it. Is he involved? Can he do that?"

Obi-Wan strokes his beard again. "I don't know. But we have to consider him the biggest threat to your safety."

Her mouth twists. "Try convincing Anakin of that."

"I think you would fare far better at that than I, my dear." He taps his mouth with his index finger, thinking. "Call him here. He's worried enough that he'd blow off any assignment to come. And I will go and talk to the Council about confronting the Chancellor."

Padmé nods but then shakes her head. As much as she'd like to leave this with him and take some time to rest, she knows she has to see it through. For Anakin's sake, if not the galaxy's. "No, I'll come with you." Obi-Wan opens his mouth to object but she ignores him. "If I'm right and Palpatine is more than just a power-hungry politician, if he truly is a Sith, you'll need Anakin in the fight." Her hair is down and she's not dressed formally enough for an official visit to either the Jedi Temple or the Senate rotunda, but there's no time to do more than grab her cloak and brief bag. "I'll message Bail to begin preparing articles of impeachment, and possibly an arrest warrant."

"Bail?"

"Senator Organa. He won't be surprised." She slings her bag over her shoulder, ignoring the ache in her back, and puts a hand on Obi-Wan's wrist. She meets his gaze squarely. "I trust him with my life, and with the Republic."

"Of course," Obi-Wan says, and she remembers that they've worked together before. 

Padmé gives his wrist a squeeze and then asks Threepio to bring her speeder around. "Let's go."

* * *

Obi-Wan speeds, but barely, a mere twenty kilometers per hour over the limit, and after she sends a note to Bail and Mon, Padmé uses the ride to text Dormé and Sabé. They might need an exit strategy. She sends a message to Ahsoka as well, even if it won't do them any immediate good. Mandalore might be a safe place to run, if it comes to that.

The sun is setting when Obi-Wan pulls the speeder into the hangar bay of the Jedi Temple. Several people call his name, but he ignores them, and she hurries after him, skirts whipping around her swollen ankles. They ride several turbolifts up to the Council Chamber, the sunset stunning through the transparisteel walls of the tube, painting the sky in vivid pinks and oranges. The sky is on fire, and the galaxy is, too.

Obi-Wan throws the doors open, but the Chamber is empty except for—"Anakin?"

Anakin bolts to his feet, dashing away tears with the backs of his hands. "Master? I thought you'd left for Utapau."

"There was a change of plans," Obi-Wan answers. "Where is everyone?"

Anakin grimaces. "Palpatine is the Sith Lord," he says. He sounds like he still can't quite believe it. Padmé knows how he feels. "Master Windu and the others went to arrest him."

"We know," Obi-Wan says.

"What? How?"

"Padmé figured it out."

Padmé steps out from behind Obi-Wan and rushes toward her husband. "Anakin." She throws her arms around him and buries her face in his chest, breathing in the familiar, beloved scent of him. 

"Padmé?" His arms come around her gently, and for a moment she allows herself to believe that everything will turn out all right. Then he pulls away and glares down at her, bewilderment and anger warring on his face. "What are you doing with Obi-Wan? Why are you here?"

"I was afraid," Padmé admits, reaching up to cup his cheek, "that you'd try to fight him alone." Among other things.

"Fight him? He has the power to save you!"

"I'm not in need of saving, Anakin," she says tartly. She doesn't say, _Not more than the Republic is._ "And even if I were, it wouldn't be worth the cost." The baby kicks as if in agreement, and Anakin reaches down automatically to rub the spot on her belly, something like wonder chasing the fury and confusion off his face.

"It would be worth it to me," he insists, but without his usual conviction. 

She knows he's as terrified as she is about becoming a parent—possibly more so, considering his nightmares and his general all-around anxiety—but the reminder is having a softening effect on him, at least for the moment. She wonders briefly what the baby feels like to him in the Force, and then dismisses the thought. There will be time enough for that later.

"Why are you here and not with the others?" Obi-Wan asks, interrupting the moment.

Anakin takes a step back and visibly braces himself, anger flooding back in. "Master Windu left me here because he doesn't trust me. He's never trusted me. Even though I did as you asked and reported back on the Chancellor."

_Who is a Sith,_ Padmé wants to say but doesn't. 

Obi-Wan is already moving towards Anakin, one hand gripping his shoulder encouragingly and the other palming the nape of his neck so he can press their foreheads together. "No, Anakin, I understand now. He left you here as a contingency plan. He knew I was returning to the Temple. We are the backup, in the unlikely event that he and the others fail. And we should get going, in case they need reinforcements." 

Anakin wraps his gloved hand around Obi-Wan's wrist and the two of them breathe together for a moment, Anakin settling the way he often does with a grounding touch.

They break apart, back on the same page for the moment, and Anakin takes Padmé's hand and presses a kiss to it. "Stay here, angel. I'll be back for you soon."

Now she curls her fingers around his wrist. "No, Ani, I'm coming with you."

"It's not safe."

"It's not safe for you, either. Anakin, please. I'll stay out of the way. I'll go to my office, but I'm going with you."

"I don't like it."

"And I don't like sending you off to face a Sith Lord!"

His mouth quirks in a brief half-grin. "Sith Lords are our specialty," he says and Obi-Wan huffs a soft laugh. 

Padmé is an adult and a sitting senator and former queen, so she does not roll her eyes at their antics, but it's tempting. 

Neither of them looks pleased about bringing a heavily pregnant woman to fight, but she doesn't give them any more time to argue. "Then we should be going." 

"By all means," Obi-Wan says, sweeping an ironic bow. "After you, Senator."

Padmé lifts her chin and sweeps out of the Council Chamber as if she were still a queen exiting her throne room.

Anakin and Obi-Wan follow.

* * *

Padmé sticks close to Anakin and Obi-Wan as they move through the sparsely populated hallways of the Senate complex. They grow tenser as they walk, and there's no more talk of leaving her behind. Padmé can only wonder what they must be feeling in the Force. There's a surprising chill in the air and even she can feel tension prickling against her skin when they reach the door to Palpatine's office.

The always-startling sound of a lightsaber duel is clearly audible even before the door slides open, and on first glance, all Padmé can see is Palpatine backed into a corner by Master Windu's purple blade.

"He's a traitor, Anakin, kill him," Palpatine says, reaching out a gnarled hand towards Anakin, who stops in confusion, his lightsaber raised but still unlit.

"He's a Sith, Skywalker," Master Windu says, not looking away from Palpatine. "He's the Sith _master_."

"I know," Anakin snaps. "I'm the one who told you that."

Padmé glances around the office and sees the broken and dismembered bodies of several vaguely familiar Jedi.

"Help me," Palpatine begs, looking and sounding like a weak old man.

"He's a Sith, Anakin," Obi-Wan repeats. 

For a moment, Palpatine looks surprised to see him there, and then the helpless expression on Palpatine's face melts into one of utter disdain. His whole demeanor changes, and even though she can't feel the Force, Padmé can see how rotten he is, hollowed out by his own bottomless thirst for power. 

"Kenobi," he snarls, "you've been a thorn in my side for far too long." Palpatine throws out a hand and Obi-Wan is flung against a wall. Master Windu brings his blade down and takes off Palpatine's hand at the wrist.

"Master!" Anakin shouts, clearly torn between helping Obi-Wan and protecting Palpatine. His blade catches Master Windu's before he can kill the Chancellor. "Wait," he says. "I need him."

Obi-Wan gets to his feet and brushes his hair off his forehead with one hand while he points his lightsaber at Palpatine with the other. Anakin glances wildly between them, eyes widening in panic.

"Anakin, this is your destiny," Palpatine says, his voice as oily as any used speeder salesman on the Outer Rim, stump curled protectively against his chest. "Kill them both."

"I—You—you'll show me how to save Padmé?" He sounds so young and uncertain.

"I don't need saving, Ani," she says, reminding him—reminding them all—of her presence. "He's the Sith Lord," she repeats, hoping this time it actually gets through to him. "He's the reason I'm in danger in the first place."

"She's lying to you, my boy. They're all lying to you."

Anakin turns an agonized look on her and she shakes her head vehemently. "Anakin, no. You know I'm telling the truth. I would never lie to _you_. I _love_ you." 

Obi-Wan is circling around towards Palpatine and Master Windu is holding steady. She just needs to keep Anakin from doing something stupid.

"If she loves you, why is she keeping you from your destiny?"

"This isn't your destiny, Anakin! Your destiny lies with me and our baby. He's the liar—" Her words are cut off by a tightening in her throat. She rises in the air, heels kicking uselessly and hands flailing to loosen the invisible grip around her neck.

"You've given many pretty speeches, Senator Amidala, but the time for talking is done." Now she's the one being flung like a rag doll. She gasps for air, her vision starting to go white around the edges, and curls around her belly in an attempt to protect the baby as she lands hard on the carpeted floor. 

What happens next is never fully clear to her—the crackle of lightning and the smell of ozone fill the air, and she sees the blurred blue of a lightsaber blade and the long line of Anakin's body as he leaps, and then Palpatine's head rolls across the floor to settle at Obi-Wan's feet.

"That was your destiny," Master Windu says portentously, holstering his lightsaber. "To destroy the Sith."

Anakin ignores him to rush to her side. "Padmé? Are you okay?" He crouches down and runs his hands over her face and neck, checking her pulse. He presses his cheek to hers, skin damp with tears or sweat or some combination of the two. "I had to do it, I'm sorry—I—He was hurting you!"

"It's okay," she croaks, cupping his cheek gently. "I'm okay." The baby kicks again and she takes a deep, relieved breath. "We're both okay," she reassures him, and then she feels a rush of fluid cascade down her legs. She meets and holds Anakin's gaze for a long moment—she needs him to hold it together for this. "The baby's coming now."

All three men shout, "What?" in unison.

"My water broke," she says as matter-of-factly as she can manage as Anakin helps her to her feet. He makes to swing her into his arms and she shakes her head. "I can walk." She clasps his hand instead, twining their fingers together.

"Call Senator Organa, and the Senate guard," Obi-Wan says to Master Windu as he takes her other hand. "We must get Senator Amidala to the med center immediately."

"You still owe me an explanation, Obi-Wan."

"There's a lot of that going around," Obi-Wan replies with something approaching his usual dry wit, "but it can wait until after all the work is done."

"I'm the one doing all the work," Padmé mutters, and Anakin laughs wetly, with an edge of hysteria to it. She can't blame him for that. It's been quite a day already, and it's not over yet.

* * *

Five hours later, she and Anakin are the proud parents of twins, Bail Organa is the Acting Supreme Chancellor of the Republic, and Padmé Amidala can finally get some rest.

* * *

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[podfic] A Constituency of One](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20172163) by [reena_jenkins](https://archiveofourown.org/users/reena_jenkins/pseuds/reena_jenkins)




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